Phase
by reversediction
Summary: Agito and Yayoi at the beginning: He knows she's got a crush on him but she says it's just a phase.


**A/N:** Phew. Another one done, finally. I don't think Agito is as dense as Ikki when it comes to girls (he's probably more observant), so this is how I imagine he would react to discovering that Nakayama fancies him a little. I held back on the swearing for the sake of the rating so I hope he's IC.

But for the record, I _love_ writing Nakayama. If her personality were fleshed out more in the manga, this is how I think it would be.

**Disclaimer:** Air Gear belongs to Oh!Great. I am but a lowly third-party transcriber to his genius.

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Phase

"Nakayama, I need to talk t– _**Who the hell are you?**_"

"It's me."

"Oh. Right." Agito mentally flayed himself, feeling a hint of déjà vu. This particular pattern of conversation should stop happening; the girl was going to be his tuner after all. He looked at her, hard, trying to take in that plain, oval-shaped face and fix it into his memory. "I need to talk to you."

"I know. You said that already." She turned around to face him, cool as you please, and for some reason he felt very irritated. Maybe it had something to do with the ideas he had swimming around in his brain and how very contrary to those ideas she seemed to be acting.

Never mind. He'd clear all those things up in under a minute.

Instead of commenting on her impudence (the nerve she talk up to him), he nodded to a desk and issued an order: "Sit."

This time she obeyed without preamble, and he slid the classroom door shut behind him before he addressed her again.

"I want this crap out right now, and you will not lie," he said quietly, loud enough so she heard him, soft enough for it to transmit as a warning. Maybe it would scare her, maybe it wouldn't – he wouldn't know, he didn't pretend to be an excellent judge of character – but the bottom line was this had to be _settled._ Maybe there was a better way of doing it, but intimidation was the only thing he knew. So intimidation it was.

But obviously if she had the gall to show cheek, she wasn't one to be intimidated that easy.

"What's this about?" That irritating calmness – he could swear it was calculated.

Ah, but he detected a bit of nervousness there, despite the composed appearance. Perhaps she could already sense what was to come. If that was the case, then there was no need for him to sugarcoat the whole damn thing.

"You're interested in me." There, he said it. Quick. Merciless.

When had he noticed? It wasn't so much as him noticing her as it was him noticing _everyone else_. They liked to tease, he'd seen. Most of it wasn't directed towards him by any means so he never thought about it.

But then it started to affect her performance. It never happened for long, but it happened with increasing consistency whenever he came over to personally oversee her training. That was when the teasing reached its severity, and when it happened, she'd make small mistakes before she could catch herself.

That sort of behavior, though trivial in a training situation, was absolutely dangerous if it were brought to a battlefield. A battlefield – with its tense atmosphere and a constant demand for speed, accuracy, and concentration – was not a place for small mistakes.

Silence permeated the classroom.

If that didn't tell him anything, then he saw what he needed in the way her face heated up and her eyes – no, her _entire_ _body_ – jerked away so that she wasn't facing in his direction anymore. Subconsciously avoiding him.

He stifled a groan.

Problem upon problem upon good-bloody-_problem._ There was some minor concern about his height and his physical strength (both things he lacked, irritatingly), and then there was Kogarasumaru and its block-headed leader. The most recent addition to his worries had been a high-and-mighty third personality – 'older brother' his ass – until he had stumbled upon _this_ most delightful setback.

"I don't really care," he said wearily, suddenly feeling heavy from beneath his burdens, "but you can see how this might become a problem, right?"

At the very least she managed to answer, although it was actually more like a sound that was somewhere between a choke and coherent speech. He thought it sounded like a 'yes' but he wouldn't take any chances this time. He had to make sure that everything was cleared up.

"Look… This… _crush_ thing… You keep it to yourself. Got it? Don't expect me to reciprocate because I sure as hell don't have time for that sort of thing. If you come simpering to me the way Adachi does to Kazu, don't expect me to have any patience with you. And don't expect me to go through that _understanding your feelings_ crap either. I have better things to do."

He was searching his mind, wondering if he left anything else that had to be said out, when at the corner of his eye he spotted movement.

Bloody hell, was she _crying?_

"I-is-is there anything I _can_ expect?" Her voice was little rough and shaky, but she managed to get a hold of herself by the end. The dignity and the poise and the calmness were back, increased ten-fold, even – but her face had trails of tell-tale wetness from the edges of her eyes to the curve of her chin.

He could beat grown men – and women – black, blue and bloody, and think nothing of it; but when faced with this _girl_ who was apparently hurt because of his words, he felt that guilt had already eaten away half of his conscience.

What, so should he show pity now? Should he apologize? The guilt was very distracting, gnawing at the edges of his sanity in a way that probably meant another restless, sleepless night –

Movement again, and this time she was back to her original position: facing him full on, gaze unflinching. For the moment at least. "Ah, this is difficult," she muttered, her eyes suddenly breaking their hold on his and flicking to the floor. "I just wanted to assure you that my… that how I… You know, what I think of you isn't the _same_," she said suddenly. There was a little pucker to her forehead when she looked up again. "As Emily's case, I mean."

She seemed somewhat offended, so he said, albeit warily, "Explain."

"I thought you said you had better things to do than waste time understanding how other people feel?"

_Vengeful little wretch_. He growled, canines visible, and took a threatening step forward, propelled by a deep-seated irritation. "I said _explain_, dammit."

To which she replied: "Friendship."

He glared at her and resisted the urge to scream "_And how the hell is __**that**__ an explanation?!_" because, damn her, he felt like doing that would cause him to burst a blood vessel. This conversation was not going as smoothly as he had planned.

Thankfully, she actually had more to say.

"Your friendship is all I want and all I intend to ask from you." She looked down, added quieter: "And it's all I'll _ever_ ask for."

Okay so it wasn't the explanation he wanted – but by then he was too weary to complain. Fine then, if she wanted to keep him in the dark then she was welcome to do so. It wasn't like he cared. He was the _Fang King_, for the love of God – an AT rider, and one of the best. Fang Kings and AT riders didn't have to bother with the life-complicating aspects of things like _feelings _and _emotions._ Simplicity in that area was always the best approach, so he scratched the back of his head and tried to keep his reply casual. "Idiot, don't you have it already? Everyone in Kogarasumaru –"

"I'm not going to be just 'everyone in Kogarasumaru' anymore," she interrupted, calm giving way to something like impetuousness. That tone was one he would soon learn to dread as the Gateway to Inconvenient Complications. "Oh don't worry," she said quickly, as she had apparently caught the grimace that had snuck onto his face, "I won't delude myself into thinking that I'm special just because I'm going to be your tuner. But I'm going to have to support you, right? I can't support someone I don't care about."

He sniffed. "So how is that a problem? Didn't you just confirm a while ago that you had a crush on me?"

She blushed scarlet and for once he felt a surge of triumph at gaining the upper hand. But he'd been allowing her to have her way for far too many times throughout their entire conversation. If this went on she would probably develop a disproportionate belief that talking back to him was an okay thing.

Irritated, but thoroughly tired by it, he motioned to her with a jerk.

"Huh?"

"Get your ass over here," he said flatly, and was a little surprised when she didn't argue. Then he recalled that she _could_ be obedient on occasion, and wondered, briefly, if that obedience could become something 24/7 and less prefaced by troublesome questions.

It felt like he was reaching for the moon on that (if what he picked up on her personality was any indication) but hell, it wasn't like it was impossible, right? He would make it possible, if only for the sake of preserving his sanity because this girl seemed to be devastatingly good at undermining him.

When she finally stood before him, he reached into his pocket and pulled something out before handing it to her. It was a handkerchief, lacy and embroidered with a fancy, loopy 'A'.

"Akito's," he grumbled by way of explanation when she'd taken it with a very obvious question on her face. It then occurred to him that she, being a girl, might have her own, thus rendering this gesture of his irrelevant. The thought made him blush with embarrassment – sometimes he didn't think things through very thoroughly – and so he turned his face away and said, "Clean up. I don't want to be accused of bullying you or something when we get back to the others."

"But you _were_ bullying me," she said matter-of-fact and he glared at her till she raised her hands up in surrender and added, "I was kidding." (But he knew by her tone that she was amused even though she didn't laugh.) "A piece of advice, Agito? Don't mind this. It's probably just a phase."

That made him frown. "This is the first time I've heard a girl call a crush a phase."

"Yeah well." She shrugged, looking sheepish. "It's not like I have any hope, right? I have a job to do and it's getting in the way. Therefore, it's a phase." She smiled at him, her tone turning singsong. "Don't worry, I'll get over you someday."

That she could recover so quickly took him aback a little, though he hid that well. This was probably his inexperience with girls that was talking. No matter how many times he told himself to be prepared for anything, he still found himself stuck with believing stereotypes. _Girls often act like they're made of glass, and if you hurt them they get fractured, and they cry. _Well this one he hurt and because of that she cried, but she showed that she could stand up again. That proved that he wouldn't need to be delicate with her.

"I don't care what you do, Nakayama," he said tiredly, "just make sure you tune me properly. And don't ever bring up this conversation – or its subject – to me again. Clear?"

"Clear as glass, Sir."

She presented the handkerchief back to him and he took it, inspecting her face one last time. She cleaned up pretty well, but then she _was_ a girl.

"Could I… say one more thing?"

He met her brown eyes inquiringly. "What is it?" And just after he spoke, he saw what he had missed because it was almost dark and sunlight was slowly filtering out of the room.

She attempted a grin, cheeks apple-red, and said rather feebly, "Don't stand so close."

Now that didn't sound very promising after all her speeches of 'phases' and 'getting over him'. "But when you tune me–"

"Give me a break, okay?" she groaned suddenly, "You were the one who forced me to come out with it! I confessed, I was rejected – _okay_ then, I _promise_ I'll get over you. But to do that I need some time to sort myself, and I can't do that with _you right in my bloody face_."

Right then.

Tight-lipped, he took a very generous step back and watched as she went into some kind of calming routine. Her chest rose and fell slowly until the color on her face went back to their natural color.

When she was done she even thanked him in that unfazed way as if nothing had ever happened - not the forced confession or the outburst or the conversation in general. Perhaps there was hope to be had.

"Let's head back," he said and she complied willingly and without further remark.

**end**

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Concrit is always welcome~


End file.
